


The Trouble with Wanting

by hannahjean



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Negan (Walking Dead), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gentle Negan (Walking Dead), Older Man/Younger Woman, Omega Character, Original Character-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character Negan (Walking Dead), Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Tags May Change, but sort of lowkey?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahjean/pseuds/hannahjean
Summary: "Well shit," he chuckled as if she had said the funniest thing he'd heard all day. She didn't miss his discreet scenting of the air. He hadn't picked up her Omega scent before—likely due to the blood that appeared to be clogging up his nose. "I can't argue with that, but I'm not lying, doll." He swayed on his feet, looking as though he was about to pass out.Hermione paused, her eyes met his own dark pair. "You were hurt before you got here."Instead of answering, the man fainted.
Relationships: Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> side note; i picture hermione as haley lu richardson :)
> 
> sadly this will probably be slow to update, but im hoping to pump out a chapter at least every two weeks! its just that my job is HIGHKEY ANNOYING and im always working :( who knew housekeeping could be so demanding of my time?
> 
> i have no beta so pls be gentle and also let me know if i fucked up somewhere !! but in a nice way bc i cry a lot already ://

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lowkey this was originally a fallout 4 fanfic (hence rosebud the dog, who was originally dogmeat) but i liked the premise better for this fic :)

— HERMIONE HAD BEEN with the Highwaymen for days. She lost count after the sun set for the third time, still tied up and laying on the ground while they got drunk and high. They were somewhere north of Richmond, that was one thing she knew for sure. She also knew her head wound stopped bleeding on the first night, but there was still dried blood on her face; her own, and blood from the Highwaymen who had been beating each other up in front of her. She rolled onto her back, taking her forest green eyes off of the bandit who was breaking in one of their new recruits.

It was the afternoon. The sun was too far to be noon, but it wasn't quite at the typical evening position in the sky. A storm was coming. It was cold too, but the Highwaymen had built a fire only a few feet away from her. Miles away, somewhere over D.C., she thought, dark clouds briefly flashed with various shades of bright lightning.

The recruit hit the ground next to her with a thump and a low groan. They met eyes, his own an angry brown while her's held an anxious air to them.

Hermione watched as he pushed himself back up. Once he had regained his bearings, he threw a punch at the man he'd been fighting with. He had his back turned to him, taking another swig of vodka as the recruit's fist made contact with the side of his head. The bottle in his hand went flying, landing somewhere in the grass as he turned, his eyes held furious glare. They began to throw punches at each other again.

Hermione looked back up at the sky but closed her eyes this time, allowing herself to tune out the sound of fists meeting skin, and the grunts and whoops and jeers of the other Highwaymen.

Her eyes opened some time later. The sun was lower now, only a few minutes from sunset, and the bandits had quieted.

Somewhere in the distance, Hermione heard a dog barking. It was confusing, because the only dog around belonged to the gang of Highwaymen, and it was sitting across the fire from her, and it only ever growled. This new dog sounded happy, excited even.

The guards turned at the sound of the barking, spinning around as they tried to pinpoint the location. They began to fire and she hoped that whoever was drawing that fire survived, and that they wouldn't kill her. The remaining Highwaymen began to shout, drawing their own weapons; a slew of tire irons, various knives and poorly modified guns.

A black German shepherd jumped over the fire and latched its teeth into the forearm of the recruit, who in turn attempted to swing his switchblade at it. Hermione rolled away, stopping once she was— _hopefully_ —safe under the shell of an old, rusted orange truck.

She spotted a man, one she hadn't seen before and who wasn't dressed like a Highwayman, walking around the side of the small wooden, half torn down shack that the bandits had been using as a camp. He had a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire over his shoulder. He could probably pass as a bandit, honestly. His broad figure filled out his leather jacket well, but that was about as far as his rugged appearance went. Under his jacket he had tucked a red scarf, and he was donning dark jeans and work boots.

A breeze passed by as he swung the bat for the first time and his scent found Hermione's nose. _An Alpha_.

While this newcomer fought her captors, Hermione busied herself with untying her hands, which had been bound behind her back. There was a piece of rusted metal sticking down above her torso, so she carefully rolled onto her stomach and wiggled up until she could use it to cut the ties around her wrists.

Once her hands were free, she crawled through to the other side of the truck, away from the fight. Astonishingly, in the few minutes that it took her to free herself and get up, the fighting had stopped.

"Hey," a deep voice said from behind her on the opposite side of the truck.

Hermione spun on her heels to face the man. She must have been a sight, face bloodied and wild, wavy hair stuck in dried—and fresh—blood. No better than any other survivor, she supposed.

"Hey," she echoed his greeting. Her voice was rough, and her throat ached for water.

Now that the Alpha was closer, she realized he looked to be half-dead. His face was pale, and he was sweating. He had clearly been in a fight before the Highwaymen. Hermione knew it was pure Alpha strength that had kept him awake and able to fight—this man was a powerful and incredibly strong Alpha.

They stared at each other for a moment. His features were highlighted by the firepit, and the sun was half-set already, but the daylight was now blocked by the slowly arriving storm.

He held his bat in one hand at his side, his dog—she assumed—was sniffing around for goodies. "You alright?"

"'M fine, thanks." Hermione held her chin high, and ignored the twinging of pain in her neck and at the top of her forehead.

Keeping his distance, he tilted his head. "You don't look alright."

"Neither do you, mister," she hissed back. It was an entirely Omegan sound, one that warned potential threats, though it was usually used near the Omega's Alpha to get their attention and receive protection.

He held up his free hand. "Whoa, hey," he took two careful steps closer and she spotted a limp. "I'm not going to fuckin' hurt you."

Hermione's eyes darted from him to the dead or dying bandits. They stopped on the big boss—a large Beta they called Shrike. She could still feel his hands under her shirt, could still see his face when she closed her eyes. "What makes you any better than them?"

"How about the fact that I just fucking killed them?"

She shook her head. "Survivors kill other survivors all the time." After a second, she added, "Alphas kill other Alphas to steal their Omegas all the time."

"Well shit," he chuckled as if she had said the funniest thing he'd heard all day. She didn't miss his discreet scenting of the air. He hadn't picked up her Omega scent before—likely due to the blood that appeared to be clogging up his nose. "I can't argue with that, but I'm not lying, doll." He swayed on his feet, looking as though he was about to pass out.

Hermione paused, her eyes met his own dark pair. "You were hurt before you got here."

Instead of answering, the man fainted.

She never even got his name, she thought bitterly, and now she had to drag him along with her to find shelter. She couldn't just leave him—he just saved her life, even if it wasn't his intention. 

It took Hermione a couple of minutes to figure out how to move the man to the Highwaymen's truck, but it turned out to be a fairly easy task once she had the vehicle pulled up right next to him. She used the ground to hold most of his weight while she moved him up, then there was a bit of pushing and gentle shoving as she got him into the passenger seat. There would probably be a bruise on his side from her last push, but she figured that the small bruise was nothing compared to the rest of his injuries. 

She whistled for the dog, which had been sniffing around several feet away, and she happily jumped up onto the back before laying across the middle seat. The baseball bat was thrown in as well.

Hermione drove for several miles, venturing further into rural Virginia until she found a run down farmhouse. It was a small two-story with a wire fence surrounding it, a broken chain holding the gate closed. She parked the truck and the dog jumped out as soon as she opened the door, booking it toward the house.

She locked the truck with the key clicker—those batteries must be the most resilient ones in the world—not wanting to drag the injured man inside if the house was full of the undead. 

Suffice to say, Hermione was shocked at how nice the house was inside. There were no blood stains on the floor or across the walls, and no bodies. Only a layer of dust wherever it could be gathered. The dog—Hermione peeked at the collar, noting that her name was Rosebud—made her home on the dusty tan couch in the center of the living room.   
  


The layout was fairly simple as well—the master bedroom was downstairs, accompanied by the master bathroom, as well as a guest bathroom near the entrance of the house. The kitchen was at the opposite end, and the laundry room was just off to the side of that. Upstairs were two medium-sized rooms—neither of which had mattresses—and an office full of old junk.

Getting the Alpha into the house was more than just a hassle, and she nearly gave up and left him outside, honestly. Half of his weight must have come from his height, which was at least a full foot taller than her five-foot-two, and the rest was from muscle, even if he was only slightly less slim than the average survivor. 

After several minutes of dragging him, Hermione finally got him into the downstairs bedroom. She stared at him for a moment then, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, listening to the slightly pained breathing. She hadn't seen an Alpha in months, and that one had been, well, horrible.

He wheezed out a breath, startling her out of her thoughts. 

Hermione made quick work of unzipping the man's jacket and pulling it from him to drape over one of the bedposts—and she most definitely did not want to bury her face into it just to get a whiff of his scent. Then, she lifted up the bloody grey sweater he had on, gasping as she saw his wounds. Jagged, shallow cuts patterned his stomach and part of his upper abdomen, and he was covered in bruises.

Someone had beaten him with the baseball bat she left in the truck. 

Luckily, farmhouse ran on well water. Hermione had seen the well outside and she had double checked the taps when she was clearing the house. She grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom—where she had also found a first aid kit— and did her best to shake away the dust before she wet half of them. 

When she came back, she found Rosebud laying on the king sized bed beside the man.

One of towels was used to clean the man's face, which had been both bloody and dirty, and another was used to wipe away most of the blood from his stomach area. She used the little alcohol pads to clean up the deeper cuts and used most of the gauze in a thin layer over the cuts before she wrapped the two ace bandages around his stomach, making sure the wrap wasn't too tight. Sitting back, she admired her work.

A terrifying though came to her then—if this Alpha had internal injuries, she wouldn't be able to help him. Withholding a whimper—and wasn't that something?—she sat on the floor between the bed and the wall and watched the man with half-lidded eyes until she fell asleep.

Only time would tell her if the Alpha would survive.


	2. Safe Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy late thanksgiving!!! i've been working all week and i keep getting put on the hard halls :)) also my senior yr stats teacher showed up at my work ?? life is wild. anyways, i actually put in my two weeks so i could get an easier part time job while i prepare for my freshman year of college next fall (i took a gap year!)
> 
> warning for somewhat inaccurate medical information most likely. i've never actually been beaten with, or witnessed the event or aftermath of anyone being beaten with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in real life. thankfully. but i have taken a medical assisting course and i have google on my side :)

— HERMIONE WOKE ONLY a few hours later, close to midnight. The full moon was high in the sky, the light that wasn't blocked by clouds was streaming in through the thin curtains adorning the window. A glance at the still-sleeping Alpha reminded her that she had never changed him out of his blood-covered clothes. 

Well, there was no time like the present.

The master bedroom had a large dark wooden dresser directly across from the bed, pushed against the wall next to the door. Most of the drawers were empty, but there were a few items of clothing here and there, and in the bottom drawer there was a working flashlight.

Whoever had originally owned the house must have been similar in size to the Alpha, Hermione thought as she held up a dark blue sweater. It would fit him perfectly fine. There was a pair of older sweatpants as well, of the thin and nearly see-through grey variety. She traded her torn up black long-sleeve for a large, pale pink hoodie from the hall closet, NIKE was embroidered across the front in a pretty handwriting font. Next to the hoodie, there was a pair of women's jogging sweatpants, the original black color only slightly faded.

The Alpha groaned when she maneuvered him around to pull his shirt completely off. Hermione had been so tired that she left it peeled up around his chest. Just getting rid of the bloodstained shirt improved his looks, she noticed reluctantly. His jeans were the next to go, though she kept her eyes closed for most of the removal and replaced them just as quick. She felt the warmth of her flushed face the entire time, and it persisted several minutes later when she had finished changing into her own new clothes as well.

Hermione watched him for another few minutes before sighing. Watching the stranger rest was incredibly boring, so she decided to look around the house. Sparing one last glance as she reached the door, she left the room with her newly acquired flashlight in hand. 

The kitchen was first. It held several fancy spice drawers—all of which were full with doubles or even three of each spice—and the pantry had a variety non-perishable foods, or things that hadn't yet expired. This would easily get the two of them through the next few months, at the very least. 

Next, she went to the guest bathroom by the door. It held a half-used first-aid kit similar to the one from the master bathroom, and there were some perception medications that may come in handy for future use. 

The upstairs bedrooms held nothing of particular value, except for some men's clothing. The clothes Hermione had found must have been from a girlfriend or an ex of some sort. 

She figured that the office full of junk would be just that—an office filled with useless junk, but there were two plastic boxes filled with camping supplies, including a butane trigger lighter and a portable cooking stove. As she turned to leave the room, something outside in the backyard caught her attention. Several trees planted in a linear fashion, and a decently sized greenhouse.

Hermione let out a strangled breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but nothing happened. She blinked, but the greenhouse was still there. 

She ran outside, grabbing the baseball bat from the truck with only a moment of hesitation to touch something that had injured her savior so brutally, then made her way to the greenhouse. The door was locked, but the keys were hanging on a hook high above her head. She had to jump up twice to grab them, causing her to mentally damn her short stature.

Inside the greenhouse, it was distinctly warm.  Climate controlled, she noted as she looked at the fruit trees and the vegetables. There was a basket near the door, which she picked up quickly before picking a few of anything that was ready to be consumed. 

Hermione brought her treasures inside and stashed them away in a safe place for her to cook them later, then decided on eating a peach and two carrots as a snack. She brought her food and the baseball bat upstairs to the bedroom and sat down on the bed, bat resting against the wall beside the door before she brushed one hand softly against the Alpha's scruffy cheek. 

Rosebud trotted in from wherever she had been hiding and laid at the man's feet, staring up at the young Omega with big, brown eyes.

Half an hour later, Hermione had fallen back asleep.

• • • •

When she woke again, it was to a groan of discomfort and the sound of thunder. The slow-moving storm she had seem the previous evening was finally upon them. She was still on the bed with the man, though she had fallen asleep sitting up against the headboard. Her left hand had buried itself in the man's dark hair, while her right sat limp in her lap. The pit of her peach was on the floor, and she realized she must have fallen asleep and dropped it before she could set it aside.

Hermione looked down at the Alpha, her green eyes meeting hazel ones. In the back of her mind, she remembered his eyes being darker when they met—a dark brown shade, almost black—and she recalled a fact from her Secondary Biology 101 class in junior year. 

_ An Alpha's eyes will darken if they feel threatened when presented with an Omega in distress, accompanied by one or more hostile and active threats. Of course, if their eyes were naturally dark, there would be no perceivable difference . _

He blinked. Then, "Where the fuck am I?" His voice was rough, and he needed some water, so she was quick to stand, pulling her hand free from his hair.

"I found a farmhouse for us to stay in. It's safe." Her underlying Omega mind was nearly purring at the thought of her success in providing for a potential mate. She was by the door by the time she said, "I'll be right back." 

The Alpha's protests could be heard from the kitchen, along with a pained groan followed by several curses. Hermione figured he must have tried to follow her and quickly grabbed some fruit and some water from the filter attachment on the sink.

When she returned, the man was sitting up with his legs hanging off the side of the bed. Rosebud was at his feet, whining. 

"You should lay back down," the Omega advised as she placed her gathered items on the nightstand. She helped ease the Alpha back, propped up by some pillows so he could comfortably eat. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Thank you for yesterday." 

"Negan," he answered gruffly before gulping down some water. Nearly the whole cup was gone in mere seconds.

"Easy!" Hermione brought her hands up to the cup clutched in his own and pulled at it. "Don't drink so fast. Here, eat this." She passed him an apple. 

"Where the fuck did you find all this shit?" 

She smiled, albeit small and somewhat shy. "There's a greenhouse out back, and the house runs on water from a protected well—all protected from the Corpses and the elements." 

Negan nodded, absorbing the information as he studied her form. "Are you okay?" He took a bite of the red apple and groaned appreciatively. Some juice trickled off of the fruit and down his thumb, and Hermione had a fleeting thought of wanting to lick it off. She mentally shook her head clear.

She had seen herself in the mirror several times by then. A fading black eye and bruised nose, a freshly bruised cheek and jaw, not to mention her split lip, sprained wrist and the blatant undertone of constant fear in her eyes. She must have been a sight to any Alpha worth their salt—and if her first encounter with Negan meant anything, he was of the protective sort. 

"I'm fine," Hermione replied, her eyes still lingering on the apple juice's trail. "How are you feeling? I need to check your injuries, just let me know when you're ready." 

He gestured for her to go ahead, so she leaned over and lifted the sweater up. The wrap looked good, and there were no leaks or bloodstains that had seeped through, but she still wanted to change the bandages.

When the gauze was removed, she asked, "Who did this to you?" 

Negan was quiet for a minute. With a sigh, he answered, "A man I thought was my best fuckin' friend." He winced when she dabbed at one of the deeper cuts with an alcohol pad. "I—uh." The sound of him softly scenting the air caught Hermione's attention—he was using her scent to calm himself, she realized. The Alpha cleared his throat and tried again. "I used to be the leader of a group of survivors. Big fuckin' boss—hell, some of them even fucking  worshipped me." 

Hermione frowned with narrowed eyes and pushed a bit harder than necessary on one of his cuts. She didn't care for self entitlement. 

" _Anyway_ , " Negan hissed, "We used to just force deals on other groups, but I wanted to change things. If we're ever going to get back to the way it was, we can't be living like fuckin' savages."

"So this guy just. . ." Her voice trailed off as she thought about his words. "He beat you for trying to be a better person? With a  _baseball bat_ wrapped in  _barbed wire_?"

The Alpha chuckled then, though Hermione couldn't see the humor. "It was fuckin' symbolic, poetic justice or some shit," he explained. "I've killed a lot of people with Lucille—the bat."  Who names a baseball bat? "Even a few friends of the man I was making fuckin' treaties with. We aren't exactly friends ourselves yet, but we're getting fucking close until Simon turned on us—had nearly half the fuckin' Saviors with him too, that bastard."

Hermione wrapped some new gauze around his abdomen and pulled his shirt back down. She stared at him as he held the apple core in his left hand, feeling like that was all she could do—stare.

"You're an Omega," he pointed out after a moment of silence. He was looking down at the apple core.

She nodded, knowing that he would catch the moment in his peripheral.

"Haven't seen one in a long fuckin' time." He continued, lifting his eyes to meet her's again. He looked tired, exhausted. "Mostly Betas, some other Alphas, but no Omegas. Last one I saw died after the third month." 

Hermione shrugged, putting the medical items back in their respective kits. "Most of them were taken by Alphas, or killed. I was with a group of Omegas before the Highwaymen caught me, but there were only four of us in total." 

The Alpha's eyes narrowed. "They do anything to you?" His question was more of a growl than anything else— _typical protective Alphas_ , Hermione thought. 

She shook her head vehemently. "They wanted to wait, since I'm. . ." He raised a brow when she paused, and her next words were soft. "They wanted to wait until my heat because I'm a virgin." 

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Negan cursed, bringing his hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Hermione's gaze lingered on his bruised knuckles. He must have thrown a few punches during the fight . "Just how fucking young are you?"

Hermione hesitated, but eventually mumbled, "Nineteen—I presented late." 

"Have you even had a real fuckin' heat yet, besides your Presentation Heat?"

She shook her head. 

"You have'ta know," he swallowed thickly, and the Omega could tell that he was holding back anger. "I'm not like those fucking knotheads, doll. 

Hermione nodded. "I know." After a curious look from Negan, she elaborated. "Yesterday after your. . . frenzy, you said the same thing. I trust you, even though you're a stranger. You saved me, so I'm saving you." She rose from the bed, "I'm going to make some food—I can still hear your stomach growling."

"I'll come with you," Negan uttered before he let out another groan as he sat up once more. 

Seconds later, he hit the carpeted floor with a yell, " _Fucking motherfucker!_ " He pulled up the leg of the sweats on his right leg and Hermione gasped. 

_How had she not see noticed that? _ _Oh, right—_ she had her eyes closed the entire time she had changed his pants. 

The Alpha's right ankle and the top of his foot were covered by a dark bruise, and there was an angry gash on his leg, about seven inches long. Pus leaked from the reddened wound, and the girl swallowed down a frightened whimper. 

"Stay here," Hermione instructed with an unusual firmness in her voice before she ran out of the room and went straight for the medicine cabinet she had seen earlier.

She rifled through the bottles until she found what she needed—Augmentin and a bottle of ibuprofen. 

"Take two of each," she demanded as soon as she was back in the master bedroom. She helped him back up to the bed before propping his leg up with some towels and a pillow. "And try to keep this leveled above your chest, it'll help with the swelling. I'm going to immobilize your ankle so you don't hurt it more." As she was wrapping his ankle, she had a sudden thought before touching her finger to the bottom of his foot. "Can you feel that?" 

He nodded—to her relief—and picked up the pills.

"The fuck are these?" He asked, though he still downed the pills with the remaining water from the cup Hermione had given him earlier.

She held up the bottle of Augmentin. "This should help prevent or clear up any infection that might have developed, and the other pills are just ibuprofen. There was a bottle of tramadol but I want you to try the ibuprofen first. Plus, the tramadol might make you puke." 

Negan frowned, watching the girl as she sat at the foot of the bed. "How the hell do you know all this?"

"My dad was a doctor, my mom was an ER nurse," she shrugged before adding, "And I got strep throat and ear infections a lot, plus some other illnesses. Augmentin was always what they gave me, and other meds, but I know that this can treat wound infections 'cause my dad used it once for his arm."

Warily, he questioned, "You still get sick like that often?" 

_Figures_ , she thought bitterly as she finished immobilizing his ankle and foot.  _The big, bad Alpha didn't want any potential problems tying him down._

Hermione shrugged again, despite her thoughts. "Probably. With the way the weather is turning, I'll catch something within the next month or so." 

"Shit, kid." He didn't sound annoyed at all, to her surprise—A bit concerned, in fact.

"Not a kid," she countered before sitting down on the floor in the same spot from the night before. 

"You're nineteen," he answered grumpily.

Her forest green eyes turned a heavy glare toward Negan. "I haven't been a kid in about two years." 

Mouth in a grim line, he nodded in understanding, and they both grew quiet. The only sounds were the intermittent sounds of thunder and the constant whistle of the wind outside. Rosebud, who had left the room amidst the chaos of Negan's hollering entered the room again, reclaiming her place at the foot of the bed.

_Winter's first snow would arrive soon_ , Hermione mused in her mind as she gazed out the window, watching as the sleet gathered and melted into a puddle around the stolen truck in front of the house.

"Hey, kid," Negan's voice cut into the quiet, cold air, causing Hermione to look at him with a raised brow. "I need to take a leak." 

_Oh, god_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a whole ass plan for this and halfway through my orange chicken dinner i had a better idea so [ insert shrug emoji ]. time to revise the outline!
> 
> i know this chapter was still a bit on the short side (still nearly 1000 words longer than chapter one!!) and most likely the next few will be the same, but once we get further into the plot, they'll grow longer :) i hope you enjoyed!
> 
> i have no beta, so please point out any mistakes i may have missed in the editing process!!

**Author's Note:**

> y'all can pester me for updates on tumblr if you like: hannahjs


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